


Coach

by JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Background Eric Bittle/Jack Zimmermann - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-30 22:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19036768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle/pseuds/JustLookFrightenedAndScuttle
Summary: Written in response toOMG Check Please! Episode 4-10.Contains spoilers.





	Coach

**Author's Note:**

> _Written in response to[OMG Check Please! Episode 4-10.](http://checkpleasecomic.com/comic/4-10-01) Contains spoilers._

Rick knew he was being paranoid when he booked the 7:25 a.m. flight to Boston. But he did not intend to miss Junior’s game because of a flight delay.

Heck, if he could have left Friday night, he would have. But he had his own game then. The first flight Delta had out in the morning would have to do.

It was supposed to get in just before ten, a full nine hours before Junior’s game started. What did they call it? Puck drop? Anyway, even if his flight was canceled for some reason, he should have time to rebook.

Then, with having to get a rental car and get to Samwell — well, he’d heard about driving in Boston — he’d told Junior he’d see him sometime in the afternoon.

He hadn’t counted on the flight actually landing early. There was no line at the rental counter, and it turned out that the highway from the airport mostly went through a tunnel that kept him out of city traffic. Maybe he’d have time for sightseeing tomorrow. Maybe Junior could come with him. If he wanted to.

Anyway, he hadn’t counted on showing up at the Haus (easily identifiable by the crossed hockey sticks over the front door and curtains that matched Suzanne’s in the kitchen window) just over an hour after he got off the plane.

When he knocked, the door was opened by a kid who took one look at him, eyes wide, and said, “You must be Bitty’s dad! Um, he’s not here right now, but he should be back soon if you want to come in.”

The kid introduced himself, said he was the goalie, and led Rick through the living room without stopping, heading directly into the kitchen. It was probably where Junior spent most of his time anyway.

Then the kid mumbled something about something he had to do and left Rick to look around. Yeah, it was Junior’s kitchen alright. The fridge was cleaner and full of more food (and less beer) than anyone would expect in a houseful of college boys, the plates were in the cupboard to the right of the sink, and a collection of mixing bowls filled the lower cabinet underneath them. Coach was pretty sure he could find any common utensil on the first try here.

At least he had some time to think about what to say. It had been over half a year since he’d seen his son (in person, at least. He’d seen that clip of him kissing Jack Zimmermann so often it felt like it was burned unto his eyelids at one point). They still talked on Sundays when he called Suze, still texted before and after games, but their relationship wasn’t the same. Or maybe it was. Maybe before that, he just hadn’t known how much of Junior’s life he kept to himself.

Rick supposed he had the right. Suzanne’s feelings had been hurt, no doubt about it. She’d been shocked, that Junior was kissing a boy, yes, but more that he was kissing anyone at all and she didn’t know about it. Then Junior had ignored her texts and calls for over a day, and that didn’t sit well with Rick. A boy should show respect to his mother, whether he liked girls or boys or little green men from Mars.

But he loved Junior – of course he did – and Suzanne said she’d assured Junior of that. And that he was welcome at home. But he hadn’t come, not even for a visit, before classes started again. Part of Rick wanted to think it was because of all the things Jack could give him that his parents couldn’t (and no, his mind was not going _there_ ). But a millionaire like Jack must have all the luxuries Junior could want at his fingertips.

Rick knew better, though. Junior wasn’t one to be swayed by material things. Heck, he lived _here_ , where the kitchen was clean but the linoleum was faded and the front steps had a definite tilt. More likely, he wasn’t sure of his welcome, or he was acting out of his own hurt at the way he and Suzanne hadn’t celebrated his coming out.

It still seemed something to handle cautiously, privately, to Rick. He didn’t hate gay people, not at all, but too many people did, and when he saw that on TV, all he could think was how vulnerable it would make his boy. Maybe it wasn’t right, but that’s the way it was.

Maybe that had something to do with why Junior hadn’t come home too.

And it was past time for Rick to see him play. Suzanne told him as much when he said he might come to this weekend, and she reminded him of how his own daddy came to every home football game when he was in college. He was only an hour from home, not a thousand miles away. Still, he’d been remiss, and he wouldn’t blame Junior at all if he was upset.

Well. Seemed like they had some things to talk about. No time like the present. Or, well, as soon as Junior got home.

Rick heard the front door open, the sound of voices and Junior’s laughter.

“Hey, y’all back?” he called.

Junior stepped into the kitchen doorway.

“There you are,” Rick said, working at sounding happy and maybe even carefree. Maybe not. He didn’t do carefree well. “Got in early. That Asian boy let me in – Chow.”

Junior’s voice was small when he said, “Oh. Hi, Daddy.”

This might be harder than Rick thought.


End file.
